Friday, June 10
Sameera / the struggle of a single woman “IV"A continuation
That night she was in the mood to look special, she entered Crown Plaza’s Sakura with that sleeveless red dress that vibrated on her, it had this perfect cut for her body that enhanced all her beautiful parts and veiled other parts that she thought blemished her nice figure. It had always amazed her how outfits enforced different characters on one’s personality; like acting casual when wearing casual, and that night her dress was seductive which should hint what type of character had enforced itself upon her .
Her evening makeup on the other hand, was perfect, unlike other times, she did not spend a long time applying it and for her that was a good omen; she knew she was in for a lovely evening.
Abbo Jaber greeted her with wide open eyes that said more than words can tell. He had never seen her outside the boundaries of her office in which she had always dressed formally and acted officially. In a way may be she meant to sense the impact of her other character on this widower, whom although was too old for her, he looked very handsome for his age, and possessed a domineering personality which she fancied in a man and may be at times she had fancied him.
The dinner was a blast; she enjoyed his company and their intellectual conversation and general chit-chats did not stop until she realized that it was 12 pm and that she had to rush home knowing what had awaited her by ignoring family’s constant calls in the past four hours. And although Abo Jaber had indirectly showed his admiration for her and the way she looked that night that he even requested “Lady in Red” to be played by the Czechoslovakian band that was coincidently there, but he did not for once approach this subject bluntly; they talked business, politics and personal issues in general, he was serious at times and funny most of the times and that exhilarated her mood when she finally drove back home.
Upon entering her house, she was faced in the entrance with her father who apparently had just gotten back from the Diwaniyah, he was pointing a finger at her and cussing her at the top of his lungs for staying out late, and on her way to her room, her mother stood on the stairs reassuring her that she would never get married with this attitude, and in the middle of her sentences, throwing the cliché of what would the neighbors think when they see her coming home that late.
Sameera blabbed back few words just to get herself off the hook, but she managed to deliver the message to her mother that she was on a business assignment of which the family already knew about and that there was no need for such a fuss. And then she closed her bedroom door behind her as soon as she got in to stop the storm that was building up outside; each one of her parents was blaming the other to show their disappointment in her. She tried hard not to change the mood in which she entered her house with, but the noise outside did not help much.
She knew that her family wanted the best for her, and was sure that they trusted her, but what she could never understand is why other’s opinion was important enough to ruin one’s life. It also puzzled her how a family would accept their daughter’s independence when they send her abroad at a very young age, and not accept it when she is older, wiser and much more mature, and moreover living under the same roof; was it a social hypocrisy!
She also believed that she was old enough to take care of her own affairs. There was no way to have a constructive argument in her family, her parents could never understand her or feel her needs; their generation and the accompanying ideologies was different than hers. Her mother had married at a very young age and had never been in her situation to judge her conduct, let alone provide a heartfelt advice that she mostly needed at times.
And now the argument outside was getting really heated up, and although her parents did not need a reason to fight since they were at it most of the time, she still hated being the ammo to start another fight. Her mother was going through menopause and that was a big reason behind her constant disapproval of everything and anything, and her father just didn’t want to be bothered with anything, he just expected everything to run smoothly without his interference as the way he was always accustomed to, and his patience with the lately over nagging wife was beginning to run very thin.
In that moment she really longed to talk to Foziya; the only one of her childhood friends that was still single. But this was not possible with Foziya’s constant business trips. And at that time Foziya was nowhere to be found for at least one week, and she couldn’t wait that long, she wanted to talk to someone now; and it was then when a naughty though popped in her mind; she called Marwan with a devilish smile on her face.
But Marwan’s phone was busy and she was kept at hold for three rings before she hang up. She waited at least an hour for his return call but it didn’t happen. And in the process her thoughts drifted to Marwan and his busy phone at this hour of the night. Was he with someone? Was he the Don Juan type? Ironically; she could not brush that thought away from her mind. Marwan was available and she was the one who rejected him, now what had changed? Why is he suddenly becoming so important? Why was she disappointed and what did she expect? And why is it that we always crave what is not easily attainable?
With a sunken heart she finally drifted to sleep.
And as expected; there was a charge of electricity in the air the next morning that she decided to skip breakfast; the family had succeeded to downcast her mood that she didn’t even feel hungry.
While driving to her office she tried to weigh her situation; were they right? Was her conduct behind the agonies that she was facing? Would she have been better off marrying the traditional way? Was it her fault that she had a five year affair with the wrong guy?
With a feeling of disgust, she cursed her stars for being different than others, for having the chance to live an independent life and being exposed to more civilized cultures and having to put up with her own that she had outlived. And in the middle of all that come again Marwan dominating all her other thoughts as she checked through the mirror the black circles around her eyes that she desperately tried to conceal with foundation an hour earlier.
To be continued
Name::AyyA
From::Kuwait
I AM WHO I AM AS I ARRIVE AT YOUR DOOR WHETHER I COME OR I GO IS NOT UP TO ME FOR I HAVE LOST SIGHT OF ALL DESIRE "Walled Garden of Truth",Hakim Sanai
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7 Comments:
Actually I would, I started reading this trilogy so far today since I saw it on Safat and well I also had time on my hands and I enjoy it..
I although don't like the character names :P HEhehe But all in all I would love to see the turn out .. please do continue
Jackie
What makes you sure there is a turn out, and I’m not saying that there isn’t, but the story as I meant it be is a live example of Sameera, Badriya, Mneera, Leana, call her whatever you like sweetie; the important thing to remember is that is alive right here between us.
Tuned....
Double M
Yeh, I’m jealous too LOOOOL
No but honestly; what is more agitating is not his phone call dear, or why didn’t he return her call, but the fact that some women, just for the sake of not generalizing, are more drawn toward mysterious man, especially at any indication that he is having other affairs. Marwan at this stage of their relationship did not mean that much to her. And at the first sign of an opponent, he suddenly becomes important. Isn’t that stupid?
Shoshowa
Sa3at tanzel 3alai qaree7at elshi3er, and as a result my mind gets drifted, so you have to bare with me at times :*
SQ8eya
I know exactly what you mean dear. If you or any of the other commentators can answer your question, I’ll be happy to know :)
Hisham
Aye aye Sir
MsB
I’m glad that you got the message dear, and that was my intention in this short story. From early seventies until today Kuwait had sent so many citizens (men and women) to study abroad and there was no provision to what they may be exposed to in a different culture. And more importantly; no sense of how much that would affect one’s life later on especially when it concerns women.
Please continue with this Ruby.
Inshallah dear soon
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